I Love the Nightlife
by Slash Mama
Summary: **SLASH** Lucius Malfoy takes a young, naive Severus Snape off to meet his new employer.


This story is SLASH, folks.  Nothing too graphic—that is, unless you think the 70s were one big obscenity….And it is not to be taken too seriously, either…

It was written as part of the Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest (Easy Pairing #10, Snape/Lucius) 

Many thanks to my most excellent beta, Crystal Claire.  Her suggestions were all invaluable; thus, all of them were utilized.****

I LOVE THE NIGHTLIFE

"Lucius, are you quite certain that…this…is where we are to meet Mr. Riddle?" Severus looked up dubiously at the spinning ball covered in tiny mirrors suspended over the floor of gyrating Muggles.

"Quite," sighed Lucius, in his affectedly bored, fashionable drawl.  He ran a manicured hand through his platinum hair in an attempt to draw attention to himself.

He needn't have done that, thought Severus, every eye in the place was on him.  As usual.  Even his parents, earlier that evening, had practically gushed when introduced to Lucius.  Had they known that the flaxen-haired deity had tempted their child with vague promises of power and position, had asked him to choose a side in the coming war, perhaps they would not have embraced him so.  Then again....  Severus abruptly shut the door on that thought.

They had been so excited when Lucius' eagle owl had arrived that morning.  It had been a vindication of all he had told them after his triumphant departure from Hogwarts—how there was a job waiting for him, working for the Malfoys, at summer's end.  As the hot, dull days had dragged by, Severus had felt his parents' scrutiny and doubt of him increasing.  He, meanwhile, had exhausted every book on the Dark Arts in his father's magical library at Snape Manor, attempting to prepare himself for whatever his upcoming position would entail.

But none of those books could have prepared him for this.

"Macho, macho man,  
I've got to be, a macho man,  
Macho, macho man (yeah, yeah),  
I've got to be a macho…"

"Lucius," whispered Severus, "This is a Muggle place!  Please tell me why we are here?" Instantly, he hated the whining, plaintive tone in his voice, but the way that some of the men who were walking by were looking at Lucius was beginning to anger him—and worse, they were positively ignoring his very presence!  And there really didn't seem to be anything other than men in the crowd, he noticed.  He hoped against hope that this was not the place at which he was expected to work.

_Body, it's so hot, my body,_   
_Body, love to pop my body,_   
_Body, love to please my body,_   
_Body, don't you tease my body…"_  
  
__
    
    "Severus," replied Lucius, handing the younger man a tall, brown bottle of some mysterious Muggle beverage.  Severus accepted the bottle labeled "LITE," suspiciously.  "Do try not to whine.  Mr. Riddle will be along shortly.  Until then, we are to wait here.  My father owns this club, you know.  You could try and have a good time."

Severus drank the bitter beverage with no enjoyment, although he was relieved to have something to do.  He tugged at the shirt collar of his black Muggle polo shirt, conjured by Lucius in Knockturn Alley.  Sweat was beginning to pool at the back of his neck, and the hair tie that Lucius had insisted that he wear was starting to cause a headache.  What was the Malfoy family thinking, involving themselves in Muggle foolishness such as this?  They were one of Britain's most distinguished, pureblood wizarding families…

You can tell a macho, he has a funky walk  
his western shirts and leather, always look so boss  
Funky with his body, he's a king  
call him Mister Eagle, dig his chains  
You can best believe that, he's a macho man  
likes to be the leader, he never dresses grand  
  
Hey! Hey! Hey, hey, hey…" 

"Severus! I'll be back in a moment—" said Lucius, disappearing into the crowd of dancers, behind a tall man dressed in leather.

"No!  Wait—Lucius…" his voice drifted off and he realized that several men were staring at him with what appeared to be pity.  His face turned hot and he looked down at the rapidly warming bottle in his hands.

"Laddie, it's not all bad," came a voice from next to him.  "I could be much better company for you than that blonde toff."  Severus wheeled around.  A short, old Muggle man dressed entirely in black leather was speaking to him.  "Is it true what they say about you blokes with big noses?"

"Er, sorry, I am afraid I don't understand.  I am…er…waiting for someone…" began Severus, weakly.  Why had Lucius abandoned him?

"Macho, macho man (see my big thick mustache)   
I've got to be, a macho man  
Macho, macho man  
I've got to be a macho! (Dig broad shoulders)…"   
  


"Yes, and that would be me, so you can move along now, you old rotter," came another voice.  Severus began to feel as if he was involved in something much more confusing than he ever could have conceived of on his own.  True, he did know an awful lot about the Dark Arts, and it was also true that he had been one of the most intelligent in his House at Hogwarts (even more so than his best friend Evan Rosier, the Slytherin Prefect, or so he thought), but—

That cold, cruel voice was familiar.  

He turned around to see none other than the former Slytherin Beater, Walden Macnair.
    
    "Snape, don't just stand there like a dunderhead.  Come along with me."  Severus swallowed a retort along with his Muggle beverage.  The only subject Macnair had ever remotely excelled in was Care of Magical Creatures.  Macnair was dressed entirely in black leather, as well, but Severus had to admit that he looked a lot better in it than the old Muggle, who was now sprawled on the floor, looking very undignified, especially since his pants didn't seem to cover his arse completely.  "I figured you'd get yourself into trouble over here without Lucius to protect you."  

Severus looked at him.  He seemed to have grown at least a foot taller and broader of shoulder since his Hogwarts days, and he also now sported a thin mustache, which made him look quite a bit older.  He was wearing some sort of hat that Severus remembered seeing in his Muggle Studies textbook, black with a stylized eagle on it.  In fact, his entire outfit seemed to be suggestive of a uniform.  Unfortunately, Severus had only taken one year of Muggle Studies; his parents had forced him to drop the class, as it was "not a suitable subject for a pureblood Slytherin."  Severus was so intent on trying to remember exactly why he should be concerned about Macnair's sartorial choice that he didn't notice that he had been pulled onto the dance floor.

_"Burn baby burn! - Disco inferno!_   
_Burn baby burn! - Burn that mother down_  
_Burn baby burn! - Disco inferno!_   
_Burn baby burn! - Burn that mother down_  
_Burnin'!"_

"Macnair, what are you doing!" he cried, frantically, as he tried to fight his way through the morass of sweaty Muggles.  "Here, boy, loosen up.  Have a popper," said a man next to him, and shoved a bottle under Severus' (admittedly large) nose.  "Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!" yelped Severus, as he involuntarily inhaled the pungent substance.  He felt instantly boneless and collapsed on his knees in front of Macnair.

"Get up, Snape, I'm not ready for that sort of thing…yet," sneered Macnair, pulling Severus to his feet and continuing to dance.

"Sorry, didn't know your Daddy was the jealous type," said the man with the bottle, slinking away into the crowd.

"Satisfaction came in a chain reaction - Do you hear?   
I couldn't get enough, so I had to self destruct,   
The heat was on, rising to the top  
Everybody's goin' strong  
That is when my spark got hot  
I heard somebody say…"

By now, Severus was beginning to wonder if he should have asked the Sorting Hat to put him in Ravenclaw.  The room was spinning, his legs were nearly useless, and Macnair was grabbing him about the waist, pulling him close…

_"Burn baby burn! - Disco inferno! (Aah yeah!)_   
_Burn baby burn! - Burn that mother down_  
_Burn baby burn! - Disco inferno, yeah!_   
_Burn baby burn! - Burn that mother down_  
_Burnin'!"_

"Snape, I always did like you…" Macnair said, as he ground his hips against Severus.  "Maybe after your initiation, we can work together…" and with that, he slid his hands down over Severus' back and began to kiss him.

_I just can't stop_  
_When my spark gets hot_  
_Just can't stop…"_

Severus felt as if he were falling.  What did he mean, initiation?  And why was Macnair kissing him?  He wasn't really sure about kissing, and he thought he liked girls, anyway, although, Gods, it felt so good, and yet—

He felt a tap on his shoulder.  Macnair pulled away.

"Walden.  Can't leave you alone for a moment, can I?" Severus looked into the amused face of Lucius.  "And Severus.  I suppose I did tell you to have a good time, didn't I?  Well, no matter.  Come along, you two, Mr. Riddle has arrived.  Walden, you really should learn to pay more attention," and he shook his arm at Macnair.
    
    Without looking at each other, the three made their way slowly through the undulating crowd and toward a previously hidden door at the back of the club.

Severus found that he could now feel his feet again, which was a good thing, as he wanted to make a good impression in front of Mr. Riddle, who, he was beginning to realize, was much more than just an important business contact of the Malfoy family

The back room seemed oddly quiet after the cacophony of the dance floor.  It was softly lit, and contained only a few pieces of furniture—shabby chairs, a few worn tables, and a sort of leather square suspended by four chains, the purpose of which Severus could not immediately discern.  There was a red, black, and white flag on the wall that depicted the same eagle design as on Macnair's hat.  Severus shivered, although the room was not that cold.

A black-haired, distinguished-looking man, with eyes that looked more than a bit serpentine, sat in the largest, nicest chair in the corner of the room.  In contrast to the Muggle world that lay just beyond the door, he was wearing black wizard's robes, and holding a wand in his hand.  Severus felt immediately relieved to see him (as he wasn't in Muggle clothes), but wary at the same time. 

"Severus," said the man, in a fatherly, comforting voice, "Do come closer.  I realize that you have been wondering why I asked you to meet me here.  It is the perfect hideout, you must admit.  Those silly Muggles outside don't care what I look like or what I do, most regular Muggles don't come in here, and no wizards, other than those loyal to me, are allowed past the door."  

Severus recalled the troll-like faces of the two men—or had they been men? —who had admitted Lucius and him to the club.

"Kneel, Severus," said Lucius.  He and Macnair had already gotten down on their knees.  By now, Severus had realized who the black-haired wizard was.  Mr. Riddle, indeed.  Every witch and wizard knew of him, although most never said his name.  And thus he now understood why the Malfoys were so powerful, and why his parents had been so insistent that he accompany Lucius.  His father, who had never worked a day in his life, preferring to spend the Snape family fortune on rare, medieval tomes concerning the Dark Arts.  And his mother, who spent the remainder of that fortune on the latest from Gladrags Wizardwear.  He was clearly expected to support them now.  

"Severus, hold out your left arm," said Voldemort, extending his wand.  This all seemed a bit sudden for Severus, but he wasn't able to muster the willpower to refuse, or even question what was happening.  

"MORSMORDRE!" A sharp pain shot through Severus' arm.  He looked down at the skull and snake that now was emblazoned there.  

"Just a formality," continued the Dark Lord.  "It makes it easier for me to know where all of my loyal followers are."  He paused for a moment.  "Malfoy.  Initiate him."  

Lucius led him, dazed, to the hanging leather square.  As he was levitated up onto it, and Lucius removed his clothes with a single wave of his wand, Severus heard Macnair mutter something, and then Voldemort said, "Not this time, Macnair.  You can do Rosier. I'd like you to serve me tonight."

Lyrics from "Macho Man," by Jacques Morali, Henri Belolo, Victor Willis & Peter Whitehead, and "Disco Inferno," by the Trammps.


End file.
